I raised the phone higher. “Say it again. Tell me how my inheritance belongs to you. Tell me how you came here to force me to sign legal documents while I’m grieving my parents.”
His eyes darted toward Vanessa.
She suddenly looked uneasy.
“Isabella,” she said, “don’t blow this out of proportion.”
I let out a short, strange laugh.
“You came to my parents’ house after their funeral to help my husband steal from me,” I said. “This is already big.”
Adrian stepped closer. “You think anyone’s going to believe you?”
That was when I threw the front door wide open.
And what I saw outside changed everything.
Our neighbors were there.
Mrs. Rivera stood next door with her phone in hand. Mr. Collins, a retired police officer from across the street, was already walking toward the porch. Two others stood nearby, watching.
I had forgotten the windows were open. I had forgotten how loud Adrian could get.
But they had heard enough.
